


Safeword: “Erskine"

by Paraxdisepink



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bondage, Consensual Kink, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rough Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Steve Has Issues, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve Rogers is not a prude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paraxdisepink/pseuds/Paraxdisepink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Bucky wondered how everyone can think Steve is an innocent boy scout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safeword: “Erskine"

**Author's Note:**

> I stole this prompt for Porny Anon on tumblr, who prompted for 'the kinkiest, filthiest porn you can give us. Because it's Christmas.” It’s not Christmas-themed though.

"You know what I could use?" Steve tells one of the agents on duty at the SHIELD armory. "A decent pair of restraints to carry on me into a fight. I can't knock 'em all out with the shield."

The agent—a new one Bucky's never seen before—has the same problem as Coulson and practically trips over himself in a hurry to get Captain America what he wants. He opens a locked metal drawer and pulls out a pair of heavy handcuffs.

"How about these, Captain?"

Steve examines them, pulling them apart, testing the strength of the metal. "Do you have anything sturdier? Most of the enemies we battle aren't ordinary humans. Let's go for something _I_ couldn't get out of."

Steve comes home with a set of manacles fashioned out of some exotic alien metal. He and Bucky eat dinner, shower, and change, and later that night Steve holds them up and says, "What do you say we try these out, Buck? I think these are exactly what I need. I've broken out of all the other ones you've used on me."

Bucky eyes the manacles, all cold dark grey metal. They look like something that belongs in a torture room.

"You want me to tie you up again?"

"I want you to help keep me humble. I don't want the fame and the job to go to my head. I want to remember what it's like to feel weak."

Bucky doesn't argue, but he doesn't think that's it. He thinks the shield and the costume are too heavy to bear sometimes and that part of Steve wants to retreat back to before it all happened for a little while. Bucky understands that more than anyone and takes the manacles.

"Strip and get me in the mood first. You know this isn't really my thing." It's not as true as Bucky would like it to be, but this is how Steve wants to be spoken to right now. Like he's nothing and Bucky's doing him a favor giving him the time of day.

Steve kicks off his slippers and slowly pulls his t-shirt up, exposing the perfect abs of his Adonis-like miracle body and his pink, pink nipples that harden as soon as the air hits them. Bucky smirks. They're sensitive when you play with them too. Always were. 

His pants are next and Steve is just as slow in taking those off, turning around and bending over, sliding the fabric down and showing off his perfect ass inch by inch. First it's just the crack peeking at him, then it's the fullness of his perfect golden cheeks. Bucky's instantly hard, thinking about the cute way those cheeks bounce when he takes Steve hard, facedown on the mattress. 

He can't resist giving Steve's ass a playful smack.

"Ninety-five years old and you still got the best ass in the country. How 'bout that?"

Steve's neck flushes red with the compliment even as he crawls on all fours on the bed and deliberately puts himself on display. The blushing is cute too, bright and innocent, the very thing that let him walk out of SHIELD with a pair of alien super manacles without anyone guessing what he really plans to do with them.

"Quit teasing and turn over," Bucky orders. Steve does it and Bucky approaches with the manacles. The worst thing is that this time the set comes with restraints for the feet. Bucky holds them up. "You want these too?"

Steve nods. "I can't be who I am if I forget what it's like to feel helpless."

Bucky doubts any bully's ever tied him up. That's more Zola or the Red Room's style, but he keeps those thoughts locked down for now. Steve lifts his legs. Bucky only planned on fastening his ankles together, but Steve—surprisingly flexible for a man his size—rolls his knees into his chest and brings his feet up high enough for Bucky to shackle them to the headboard.

He's completely exposed and vulnerable like this—legs wide, his ass and the plumpness of his balls and his flushed cock and his pink hole where he's so hot inside all there at Bucky's mercy to spank and tease and deny and fuck however he wants. 

He moves to shackle Steve's hands, but he stops him. "You're a sergeant. You're only supposed to supervise, not do the same work as us regular joes."

So they're back to this game again. Bucky almost forgot about it, it's been so long. Steve gets the lube out of the nightstand and Bucky is delegated to 'supervising' as Steve slowly and shamelessly circles one slick finger around his opening, taking his time rubbing and teasing before slipping it inside himself.

His eyes close and his hips rock. He enjoys this, being dirty once the uniform is off. Steve's eyes open and he looks up at Bucky.

"Am I doing this to your satisfaction, Sergeant? because I know my fingers are big, but if I'm not, I could take two or three more."

Bucky laughs, hard as he is. Steve could probably take his whole metal hand, he's so good at opening himself. He'd probably insist on trying just to prove it too if Bucky so much as implied he doubted it.

Steve takes all four of his own fingers and two of Bucky's cold metal ones, moaning with his head thrown back. He's so slick and well-stretched and ready for his cock, Bucky wants to bury himself balls-deep in Steve right then. 

That's not the game though. He clamps Steve's wrists to the headboard and takes the huge red silicone anal plug from the nightstand. Bucky adds more lube and shoves it inside Steve to keep him nice and wet and stretched while he does his paperwork, does the dishes, cleans his weapons—whatever chores he needs to. 

Bucky comes and fucks him between each of these tasks, paddles his ass a nice patriotic shade of red with a wooden spatula from the kitchen when Steve complains too much about being ignored for too long. Bucky folds his laundry and fucks him after, listens to Natasha vent over the phone about some other agent she can't stand and fucks Steve after that too. The game is too act like all these other things are so much more exciting and important and that Steve is just an afterthought, until Steve gets this _need_ out of his system for the time being.

And when Steve's had enough, the safeword is 'Erskine'.

**

The nightmares don't get easier. Bucky sees innocent men and women with their blood and brains spattered over walls and floors. He wakes in a cold sweat, and in the throes of that sick, self-hatred with the images still fresh, there's no torture Zola or the Red Room could invent worse than being welcome in the bed of a man as good as Steve.

Steve's arms quickly come around him and Bucky's chocking out what he saw and things he's done. 

"It wasn't you," Steve reassures him over and over, and when Bucky's too wrung out to say any more, Steve finds his mouth in the dark, kisses along his jaw, and whispers, "Let me help you calm down."

Bucky just clings to Steve's sturdiness and warmth like he'll fall back through the decades into that other him if he lets go. Steve gently pulls his sweaty boxers off and then one arm is back around him and Steve's mouth is soft on his. His other hand closes around Bucky's cock and gently strokes and squeezes until Bucky's hard and letting out quiet groans against his lips.

"Close?" Steve asks after a few minutes. Bucky's makes a sound that means yes and Steve takes Bucky's hand and guides it in a slow rhythm over his own cock and then lets go of him. "Take over for a minute."

He grabs for the lube in the nightstand. "I don't feel like-" Bucky starts to say, but Steve shakes his head.

"I know that."

He pulls Bucky so his back is tight to Steve's chest and slips a hand under one thigh. His other hand goes back to working Bucky's cock as one warm, slick finger carefully penetrates him. Steve curves it toward his balls, rubbing the right spot in firm, slow circles. Pleasure rolls through Bucky in waves and his body arches and rocks with it as Steve kisses his shoulder and sucks the side of his neck.

Bucky comes with a choked, overwhelmed sound. Steve keeps stroking the length of him and rubbing inside him until he stops shuddering, and then he's sliding down between Bucky's open thighs. He takes his cock in his mouth and licks it clean, tonguing the slit and around the head. Bucky whimpers with aftershocks of pleasure, but Steve doesn't stop there. He kisses the mess of sticky drying come on his stomach and his tongue darts out, lapping it up hot and quick and greedy. Bucky throws his head back. It's too much—the wetness on sensitive skin, the idea of it. Steve keeps it up until Bucky's stomach is licked as clean as his cock and he's flushed and almost wild-eyed when he looks up.

Bucky's throat is so dry with arousal all over again it takes him a minute to speak.

"What was that for?"

Steve just smiles at him and runs his tongue over his lips. "I'm letting you know there's no part of you that's bad,"

Bucky's SHIELD-appointed therapist calls in the morning.

"Bucky's in the shower right now, ma'am." He hears Steve take the call, polite and well-mannered as ever. "I'm sure he'll return your call when he gets out." She says something and Steve laughs. "Yeah... I think he's been making a lot of progress.... Thank you, ma'am. I just try and do my part by making sure he gets plenty of sleep."

Steve sounds so wholesome and sweet Bucky rolls his eyes. Maybe he should tell her how it makes him feel when wholesome Captain America does crazy things like ask to be tied up or licks semen off his belly. It's got to be interesting, watching the reaction.

**

Bucky's naked on his back with his legs around Steve's hips. The rhythm of Steve's thrusting is perfect. The angle is just right. Bucky wants it to last forever, as much as he can't wait for the mind-blowing orgasm that's building. He moans out "Steve..." and the phone rings.

It's the secure SHIELD line, which means they can't ignore it. 

Steve looks plenty irritated—it's not like they get a lot of time to enjoy a lazy day of mindless sex together—but he turns on his 'I'm ready to do my duty and fight injustice' voice like a switch. It's Fury, and Steve's full of 'yes, sir' and 'that's what the intel seems to be pointing to, sir,' and apparently they harbor suspicions of an underground HYDRA cell right here in New York. It's not that HYDRA's presence on American soil isn't alarming, but it's definitely not erotic, having a guy inside you while he goes on to Nick Fury about rooting out terrorists and the best use of SHIELD's strategic resources to get the job done.

Bucky's getting bored and cold, and the delicious ache Steve was building starts to ebb. He tries to pull away to crawl under the blankets, but Steve balances the phone on one shoulder, grabs Bucky's hips and thrusts hard and deep. Bucky cries out and Steve does it again. His cock is big enough that pretty much any thrust hits the right spot and sends lightning through Bucky's body. He can't help moaning. It's only after the sounds leave him that he remembers Fury might be able to hear.

Steve casually pulls out of him while he rambles on about maybe talking to Natasha and Bucky about infiltrating their ranks. He flips Bucky onto his stomach and slides in him all over again, thrusting steady and deeper and forcing Bucky to bite the pillow and muffle his sounds, because God forbid anyone know Captain America is fucking his boyfriend while coordinating with SHIELD to save the city from neo-Nazis.

**

Bucky combs his freshly-washed hair in the fancy, lighted mirror of Stark's fancy penthouse bathroom. The door opens and Steve walks in wearing what Bucky thinks of as the 'America's dick is bigger than yours' costume—the one so tight it doesn't leave much to the imagination.

"I didn't know you were back. I just heard."

Bucky shrugs, wearing nothing but the fluffiest towel ever to touch his naked skin. "Just got back twenty minutes ago. Stark told me to go upstairs and clean up if I wanted to be allowed in the party."

Steve shakes his head, but it's Stark's birthday and his house, so Bucky's willing to accept that his rules are his rules. Steve's more interested in him though. He wraps his arm around him from behind and presses a lingering kiss to Bucky's cheek. 

"Terrorists out of commission?"

"They're in SHIELD custody."

"Good." It's muffled by Bucky's skin as Steve mouths along the curve of his bare shoulder. "Too many people downstairs. Everyone wants to shake Captain America's hand and monopolize him."

Bucky snorts. Must be hoping some good will rub off on them. Steve unceremoniously opens the towel at Bucky's waist and lets it drop to the intricately-tiled floor. "Miss me?" He rubs a hand over Bucky's stomach.

"Yeah, but sleeping next to Nat and my new high-powered rifle is fun too." Just for that, Steve squeezes his cock, rubbing his thumb across the head. Bucky's hips give an involuntary thrust into his grip and he admits in a breathier voice, "Just not as fun."

Steve kisses the scar tissue where flesh meets metal and rummages with his free hand through the small bag Bucky brought with him straight off the quinjet. He pulls out the bottle of lube Bucky carries with him everywhere now and slaps Bucky on the ass.

"Assume the position, soldier."

 _Jesus._ This is Stark's own bathroom. The guy grates on his nerves sometimes, but Bucky's not sure this isn't going a little far. It goes right to Bucky's head though, and his cock, that Steve came to find him with fucking him on his mind when Bucky's sure everyone at the party thinks Steve only ran off out of necessity because he had to bust-up a wannabe Hitler takeover plot or something. 

Steve's fingers slip between his cheeks and he teases Bucky's hole with the pad of his thumb. Bucky spreads his legs for him and Steve slides down, kissing the small of his back—tight with anticipation—before his tongue swipes up and down the cleft of his ass. Then it's inside him, moving in and out, and Bucky's holding onto the counter, moaning and thrusting into the wetness that should feel dirty and not half so good.

He ends up bent over the marble while Steve's fingers finish making sure he's ready with enough lube to handle a cock as big as his. A strong hand sneaks under Bucky's chest and pushes him upright and Bucky helpfully brings one knee up onto the count to open himself as much as he can. Steve slams inside him in one easy thrust, so big and hard Bucky doubts anyone else could fill him up like this. He knows no one else can make him feel like this. Steve moves in and out in a few deep, lazy thrusts, watching Bucky's face in the mirror. Then one big hand slips under Bucky's thigh and the other hand does the same and Steve's lifting him with his enhanced strength, holding him spread open off the ground with his hands under his thighs, thrusting in him harder and harder. 

There's nothing for Bucky to hold onto and panic flashes in him with that awful, icy memory of flailing in mid air. It's fleeting though, and Bucky grabs onto Steve's arm with his metal hand. He doesn't need to touch himself, but his cock looks neglected and vulnerable with him held up in mid air like this. 

Steve flips him so his legs are around his waist, kisses him once, and dumps Bucky on his back on the cold marble of the far too big counter. Bucky's legs end up on Steve's shoulders and he's deep in him again, fucking him so hard Bucky's half afraid the ceiling-high mirror will break and shatter all over him. He's also afraid the whole tower can hear him moaning.

 _This is my life now,_ Bucky thinks dizzily as he comes. Somewhere along the line he's grown complacent with trading his body for pancakes in bed and strong arms to hold him in the middle of the night and head-spinning orgasms like this one.

Steve's hunched and spent and sweaty afterward, but he's glowing and satisfied. He pulls away and straightens while Bucky just lies there.

"Steve...?" It's not easy after coming like that to remember how to make speech and thought work together. He wipes his sticky hand on the counter before remembering where he is. "You gotta help me up."

Zipping up his pants, Steve has the nerve to flash a smug grin, but he scoops Bucky off the counter. His legs wobble, and Bucky has to hold onto him a moment before getting his feet, but he's mostly steady when Steve gives him a push through an arched doorway.

"Back into the shower."

Bucky glances over his shoulder at the mess of come and lube on the counter. "We should clean that up."

Steve shrugs. "Leave it there. It serves Stark right for telling the whole party I'd turn as red as the stripes on my uniform if someone said the word 'breasts'." 

Bucky shakes his head. The Avengers seem to forget Steve drew naked models and grew up with him—a guy who likes breasts a lot.

**

1943

Bucky's fingers dig into Steve's sides as he hauls him closer. Steve doesn't usually plaster himself to him the second they get in the door—they have to be more careful than that—but the neighbors are gone and Steve's happy about managing to knock Bucky on his ass with one punch today. The "training" is working. Steve's toughening up.

He still feels so fragile though and Bucky's grip lightens. If he's not careful, he'll leave bruises.

"Sorry," he murmurs against Steve's hungry mouth.

Steve pulls back, looking up at him with his arms around Bucky's neck, eyes bright and stubborn. "I won't break if you get a little rough."

Bucky smiles and ducks down for another kiss. "You sure about that? I only like hurting people who hurt you first."

Steve works on pushing Bucky's suspenders off his shoulders. "It's about time I practiced, right? No one in bootcamp's gonna care about being gentle with me, and that's where I'm going." He starts unraveling Bucky's tie. "Why don't you help get me used to a little rough treatment... Drill Sergeant." 

Bucky's not sure he likes what he reads in Steve's eyes. "Isn't that what I've been doing? I made you run ten laps today even though you coughed all the way through the last one and swore you hated my guts."

He knows the truth though, and thinks Steve does too. Bucky can try and toughen Steve up for a second shot with the recruiters all he likes, but the Army's not going to take him this time either. He just doesn't see why Steve is so desperate to have it otherwise. Isn't that why able-bodied men go to war, to keep the girls at home and everyone else they love who needs it safe? But this war has got the girls doing their part now too and that makes it harder for Steve.

"Yeah," Steve says, "but when we do this, you still hold back. It's like you think I can't take it. I can. I can make it through bootcamp too. Just try me."

Bucky wants to argue that he's not going to hurt Steve just so he can prove something to himself, that that's what caring about something means—not wanting to see them hurt. But maybe if Steve proves to himself whatever it is he needs to he'll get this obsession with going to war and getting himself killed out of his head.

"You wanna play bedroom bootcamp?" Steve's too busy being stubborn to blush. He holds Bucky's eyes in a way that says he's not backing down from this. If that's the way it has to be... "Get on your knees, maggot."

Steve's lips quirk up. "Now you're talking."

His knees bump the ratty old throw rug and Bucky unbuttons his own trousers and pulls his dick out, hard from all the kissing. He shoves it in Steve's mouth without much warning, taking his head in both hands and thrusting until the tip of his dick hits the back of Steve's throat.

"Think you can handle that, maggot? Or is it too much for a little sissy punk like you?" 

Steve chokes around him, but his eyes warn Bucky not to dare relent. He squares his shoulders at attention to say he's ready for orders.

Holy cow, this is crazy.

Bucky wets his lips.

"Give me twenty, and you'd better not gag either."

A small hand makes a tight fist around the base of Bucky's cock. Steve closes his eyes, his head bobbing back and forth, up and down the length of him with gusto. He's really throwing his back into it. He likes it. Bucky's fingers tangle in Steve's hair for purchase and he thrusts with him, losing count of whether or not they go past twenty. Bucky calls a halt though before he comes.

Steve pulls off him with the dirtiest slurping sound. He's out of breath, but his shoulders immediately square themselves and he's kneeling at attention again.

"Take your clothes off. The last thing we need is a shy wimp who can't stand a little cold."

Getting up, Steve undresses, exposing an ass that's surprisingly round for such a thin fellow, and Bucky looks at a lot of asses. Steve turns back around, his nipples hard and pink, and Christ it's twenty below outside.

"Now get down and give me twenty for real. Let's see that sweet ass in action."

Steve drops to the floor while Bucky digs for vaseline in the bureau. He's on his hands and knees, facing away from Bucky. Spreading his legs, Steve lowers himself onto his elbows, only to push himself up onto his hands and push his ass out while he counts, "One... Two..." 

Bucky watches a few times then gets the vaseline on his hands and crouches behind Steve. Steve stops at number seven of his dirty push-ups and that gets him a loud slap on the ass hard enough that Steve jumps. God help him, it's scary to admit how much Bucky has enjoyed playing 'drill sergeant' since Steve became determined to go off to Europe and die.

"You gonna do that every time an enemy gun goes off? The last thing our troops need is a scaredy cat, maggot." Steve starts to protest, but Bucky smacks him again. "Keep counting."

"Eight..." Steve lowers himself facedown and pushes up again, arching his back like a cat in heat. Bucky shoves two fingers in him. Steve groans and spreads his thighs wider.

"I didn't say you could stop."

"Nine..." Steve keeps going, thrusting himself on Bucky's fingers with the motion of his fake push-ups. When he gets to seventeen, Bucky lowers himself on one knee behind him, grabbing Steve's narrow hips and pushing his cock inside. He wants to moan at the heat and tightness, but controls himself. "Twenty..." Steve finishes, pushing back so Bucky's sheathed in him all the way. He looks at Bucky over his shoulder. "Now what?"

Bucky's fingers tighten on Steve's hips. God, he feels good. "Now it's fifty." He smacks Steve's ass once more to spur him back into motion. "Make them good ones, maggot."

They are. Steve thrusts all the way back each time and seals Bucky tight in him. Bucky's hips can't help but move, and at twenty-eight, Steve glances back at him again and pants, "Come on. Give me all you got. I can take it."

Bucky's grip falters. Then his hips are slamming into him from behind and Steve's facedown, biting his lip to stifle his moans and Jesus, the things he does for Steve. 

**

Decades later, every time someone rushes to turn the channel when a sex scene comes on in Steve's presence or hides a naughty book under the couch cushions before Steve can see it, Bucky goes back to that memory and wonders if any of these people Steve is surrounded with will ever really know him at all.

**Author's Note:**

> The last one is based on the movie tie-in comic.


End file.
